


Wrap and Turn

by Barkour



Category: Homestuck
Genre: F/F, Future Fic, Knitting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-03
Updated: 2011-05-03
Packaged: 2017-10-18 22:25:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/193961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Barkour/pseuds/Barkour
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>At some point in a possible future, Rose teaches Kanaya to knit.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wrap and Turn

Striking, the fragrance which clings to Rose’s skin. She works the yarn deftly with her needles, the tips of which tick against each other. Kanaya stares at Rose’s dark fingers, her clipped white nails, the polished callus at the tip of her left index finger, and feels her own fingers burning.

“For short rows, you wrap and turn. First bring the yarn to the front. Then slip the next stitch, like this.”

Kanaya does so. The needle pierces the yarn. It’s only to be expected; she is but a novice. Nevertheless. She withdraws the needle with more force than understanding and loses the stitch altogether. She considers pitching the needles into the sea, there to rot as the saltwater eats away at the wood. Instead she says,

“This is insufferable.”

Rose’s needles tick twice more, then still.

Kanaya draws breath. She will not behave like a grub, all futile vexation.

“I apologize, but as I appear to have bungled this up, I must start from the beginning again.”

Rose sets her needles down. She brushes her hair back from her eyes; it falls loose in strands from her headband, and the ends kiss her temples, her cheeks.

“Let me see what you’ve done.”

The sweet and heavy scent of Rose rises from her nape as she bends over Kanaya’s hands. The back of her shirt bags open between her shoulder blades, and the knobs of her spine show like knots in a tree.

“Well,” Rose says, “it isn’t the end of the world.”

She straightens. Kanaya straightens, too, so her neck aches with it.

“Can I salvage it then?”

Rose says, “Of course. Allow me to show you—”

Then she sets her hands upon Kanaya’s, her long fingers fitting with illusory delicacy between Kanaya’s knuckles. The air is humid, and Rose’s hair curls just so with it.

“By slipping the needle in here at the front and working a knit stitch from the back, you may add another stitch.”

She guides Kanaya’s hands, and Kanaya turns and presses her lips to Rose’s dark and graceful neck. Rose’s hands still; her thumbs press the crease at the inside of Kanaya’s own pale thumbs.

Kanaya breathes deeply of Rose, that scent of red blood, deep water, and magic which fizzes and pops and burns beneath the skin without respite. Rose’s jaw flexes as she turns. Her lips on Kanaya’s lips are hot; they spark and taste of all the sweet and sharp things which bubble inside Rose.

Rose says, “Perhaps we could take a break.”

“Yes,” Kanaya says. “I think we could do so if you would like to.”

Rose smiles — a little shadow at the corner of her mouth.

“I would like to,” she says.


End file.
